Ward of the White Worm

“Ah, welcome back.”

Olli and Motzy had only just stepped back inside the manor when Theodore seemed to emerge from the dusty shadows to greet them. He held a book under his arm and held a newspaper in the same hand. “Hello, sir!” Motzy said. “I have just finished the shopping, and I got some more ink for you.”

“Oh, thank you Motzy,” Theodore said warmly, “how do you feel? Was it cold? Did the seat agree with your back?”

“Olli, do you hear him? Did I seem bothered by the cold or the seat?” Motzy asked, confident as she put her hands on her hips.

Olli shook her head, “we saw that Neighbor though!”

“A Neighbor?” Theodore’s pale eyebrows lifted slightly, “what did they do?”

“Nothing unusual,” Motzy answered promptly, “it was just one asking for a ride to Watshire.”

Theodore looked thoughtful, “did the Neighbor speak? Did it ask you to-”

Motzy shook her head quickly, “oh no, my lord! It only asked to go to Watshire, that was all. It thanked us and left.”

Olli bit her lip. She had suspected Motzy had not heard the Neighbor’s question, but this confirmed it for her, yet not she had another question. What was it going to ask her to do? Every time she stepped out of the house there was another mystery, and nobody told her anything still!

“Olli?” Theodore’s concern turned to her now.

Olli reached into her basket and held up the two honey-pins. “These are for you.” The sweet sticky coatings had started soaking into their paper wrappings, and she could feel them faintly stick to her hands. Theodore gazed at them in curiosity, slowly taking them from her hand, and the small smile came back to his face.

“Thank you very much, Olli.”

“Oh, that reminds me. I was speaking to the clerk and he said the tax on windows was being heightened, is that true sir?” Motzy asked.

“Motzy, you know I do not speak of politics when parliament isn’t in session,” Theodore sighed, although there was a hint of exhaustion in his face as though this had been a discussion before. “Also, the governess suggested to me by the Greenes has arrived. I have sent her up to get acquainted and comfortable with her new room. When she is finished, perhaps you would like to meet her?” He asked Olli, who felt it was not really a question so much as a statement.

The woman in the room was thin and narrow, she wore her hair in a bun that was as tidy was it was severe, which further drew her hawkish pinched features into a cruel light to Olli’s sight. She wore an unadorned plain grey dress where the only color came from her head and hands poking out from it. The table behind her was small and cramped with a collection of sewing supplies, books, and strange dust covered knick-knacks such as tiny statues of chubby angels or dogs made of twine. Pale light struggled to pierce through the dusty film on the window. “Olli, this is Miss Marsh,” Theodore said, gesturing to the severe looking woman. His eyes remained on Miss Marsh as he spoke, gesturing to Olli. “Miss Marsh, this is Olli.”

“Is Olli her Church Name?” Miss Marsh had a nice voice, but the expression of her face made it hollow and cold.

“No, it is Olivia,” Theodore replied.

“Miss Olivia Graef-” Miss Marsh sounded out each word crisply, moving over to stand in front of Olli. The way she walked was somewhat odd. Leaning more heavily on her left leg, almost swinging the right one forward. The only reason why Olli noticed this strange gait was because she was doing everything to avoid looking to those scrutinizing eyes. They reminded her of something distant that she could not quite recall, but feared anyway. “I do not believe in familiarity between governess and ward, Lord Brynebourne. Please excuse me, but I feel it may foster an unnecessary and troublesome closeness between the governess and ward.”

“So you don’t like me?” Olli asked, placing her hands on her hips.

“I do not recall asking you to speak,” Miss Marsh replied, flat and unemotive.

Olli looked over at Theodore, “she’s mean!”

Theodore had a funny expression on his face, something like amusement hidden beneath consternation. “Well that is quite unfortunate for you, Olli, but I am afraid you will need to learn to endure the differences of other people. It would also be wise for you to learn of respect, especially for adults. You may not have had any decent guides in your life before you came to me, but from now on you will learn to act the proper child of Graef.”

“Your first lesson will be to stand up straighter instead of slouching, and to address adults with respect,” Miss Marsh said, using both her hands to draw Olli’s shoulders up so she stood as straight as a pole. “A young lady must have good posture, let me get a book-”

“Are you going to hit me with it!?” Olli recoiled, ready to bolt for the door.

“There will be no striking,” Theodore said, both as warning and as an assurance.

Miss Marsh had returned to the table, picking up a book before looking back at Theodore. She gave him a bow, “I am very sorry, I did not mean to insinuate I would strike Miss Olivia,” she said. “Balancing a book atop the head is a very simple posture practice. I do not believe in hitting children.” She held the book atop her own head, and despite her odd gait, it did not sway a centimeter on her head. She stopped in front of Olli and took the book off her head, about to present it to Olli when she paused. “Ah! Oh.”

“Is something wrong?” Theodore asked.

“This book, oh, it is not mine. It belonged to a lady in the coach with me,” Miss Marsh’s face betrayed no expression even though there was a slight tremble to her voice. “How terrible, I did not mean to take her book.”

“Perhaps she had forgotten it in the coach?” Theodore suggested. “Did she tell you her name?”

“It was a Miss Fossoyeur,” Miss Marsh said, a slight tinge of red had reached her ears.

“Ah, I believe I’ve heard that name before,” Theodore said, “in Saint-Greys’. When I go there next, I may ask if Miss Fossoyeur is in town and return the book to her.” He offered his hand and Miss Marsh gratefully placed it there.

“I thank you, my lord,” Miss Marsh said.

“I am happy to help, but I will take this book to my study. Things tend to get lost easily, and only Motzy and Mister Burke seem to recall where everything is,” he said pleasantly. He then gave the two a short bow and left the room.

Miss Marsh looked down at Olli for a moment, went back to the table and came back with another book. “Now, we begin your posture lesson.”